


Anything Worth Doing

by GutterBall



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Chuck is an awkward turtle, Cussing, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post-Pitfall, Raleigh is a shitty Galahad, almost everyone lived, mention of other characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5558411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GutterBall/pseuds/GutterBall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither Raleigh nor Chuck want to attend the first New Year's party after Pitfall alone. It seems like most of the rest of the PPDC personnel have either paired off or are too busy to pair up, and Chuck, being both a perfectionist about details and an awkward teenager when it comes to social situations, does not want to be the only person not kissing someone when the last second ticks off the clock. So, Raleigh offers to give him a peck on the cheek, getting them both out of the discomfort of being alone in a sea of happy couples.</p><p>It doesn't go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything Worth Doing

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno what the hell happened here. I started out to write a fluffy, cracky New Year's story about what was supposed to be a for-show kiss on the cheek turning into a real (but accidental) kiss when someone's attention turned, and boom. Almost seven thousand words of smut later, here we are.
> 
> These two clownshoes. I swear, they'll be the death of me.
> 
> Happy New Year, folks!

Raleigh Becket had no idea how to handle the current situation. All of his training, all of his life experience up to this moment meant absolutely nothing. He was completely out of his depth.

The "current situation", of course, was Chuck Hansen crowding right up in his face, throwing off aggressive, cranky vibes, and demanding to know who the hell he, Raleigh, would be kissing at midnight at the New Year's get-together Mako and Herc had thrown together.

For some reason, the PPDC had decided to adopt the Gregorian calendar's January 1 as the New Year -- instead of the infinitely more logical Chinese New Year, considering they were still stationed in Hong Kong -- and both the marshal and deputy marshal insisted that a celebration of epic proportions was in order this first year post-Pitfall. Sure, they'd all done their share of interviews and press junkets in the past ten months, but this was something else. This was for PPDC personnel only. No press other than a single cameraperson from the one journal that had shown unwavering support through all the UN's so-called strategizing.

But none of that mattered right now with Chuck bristling right in his face and silently demanding an answer.

Blinking and well aware that pretty much anything he said would be wrong for reasons he couldn't begin to understand, Raleigh tried to gently extricate himself. "Honestly, Chuck, I haven't given it much thought." He swallowed hard and tried to inconspicuously lean back and gain some space. "Been a while since I gave a shit about New Year's, ya know?"

Growling a bit, Chuck abruptly jerked back a step or two and crossed his arms over his chest. "That's the whole goddamn point, Becket. First New Year's Day since we closed the Breach, yeah? _Everyone_ ought to give a shit this year. It's a fresh start for the whole goddamn planet."

It was a fair point, but Raleigh still wasn't sure what the kid was all worked up about. The first post-Pitfall Christmas hadn't gotten this much huff and grumble, even with all the mistletoe hanging around everywhere. If Raleigh remembered right, Chuck had just avoided all the kiss traps and focused on presents and booze and good food, like everyone else. So... why did it matter now?

"Okay, okay. I get that. Just... why does the kissing thing even matter?"

The aggressive crankiness came back, but thankfully, the brat speared him with a glare instead of getting all up in his space again. "Because it's part of the tradition, idiot. No sense doing the whole thing if you're not gonna do it right."

Raleigh refrained from rolling his eyes by sheer force of will. Of course Chuck would be all-in for the details. The kid was a perfectionist, if nothing else.

"Chuck, honestly, I don't think people put that much thought into it. I'll probably just kiss whoever's close by and doesn't slap me for leaning in. It's not that big a deal."

Frowning and clearly unsatisfied with this imminently reasonable answer, Chuck grunted. "Why not stick close to Mako, then? At least you know she won't deck you."

Again narrowly avoiding rolling his eyes, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "She'll probably be working the crowd, making sure everyone's having a good time and that everything's in order." He wrinkled his nose a bit. "Besides, she's my... my sister, really. Kissing... isn't our thing."

Casual touch, yes. Bumping foreheads, yes. But even a kiss on the cheek felt... weird, somehow. Like kissing Yancy on the cheek would have. Mako had become family in the past almost-year, and they were as close as siblings, and it probably would have been fine to give her a kiss on the cheek at the stroke of midnight, but... no. That wasn't them.

And she probably _would_ be all over the heavily decorated jaeger bay, playing diplomat and leader and model PPDC member all at once. If he saw her long enough for a single dance, he'd be surprised.

Not that he knew how to dance.

But Chuck was still the clear and present danger right in front of him, and while the kid had obviously gotten used to Raleigh's occasional mental wanderings over the past year, the jerk apparently wasn't in the mood for it today.

"Well, I'm sure as hell not kissing Dad."

And it struck him. This wasn't about who _Raleigh_ would be kissing at midnight. This was about who _Chuck_ would be kissing, and the kid was too much a perfectionist to leave it to chance on the night and maybe end up partnerless, screwing up the whole tradition.

It took every last ounce of Raleigh's will to keep himself from grinning fondly. Poor Chuck. Yeah, the kid could still be an asshole, but sometimes -- like right now -- Raleigh saw flashes of the awkward teenager Chuck Hansen never got to be. Not like the brat had found much opportunity to work through social awkwardness and find his confidence in himself while being raised in a milaristic setting and fighting monsters from another dimension most of his life.

So, he didn't dare grin. Chuck wouldn't take it as fondness but as a taunt.

Clearing his throat, he rocked back on his heels and kept his tone deliberately casual. "Why don't _you_ stick close to Mako? She'd probably appreciate not having to find a partner, too."

Chuck shot him a wary glance, then slumped when he saw that, yeah, Raleigh _knew_. "Nah, mate. You're right. She'll be making the rounds with Dad. The last thing I need is that many chances to say the wrong thing to the wrong people."

He couldn't have stopped his chuckle for anything in the world. Before the kid could get irritated, though, Raleigh saved himself.

"Which is why I have no intention of following her around like a lost puppy." His amusement turned wry. "Not exactly known for my restraint in questioning stupidity, am I?"

That seemed to bring some of the kid's red down, but Chuck still seemed frustrated and edgy. "I'm not standing by Geiszler. That little bastard tries to kiss me, and I won't be held responsible for the shapes I break him into."

Raleigh snorted, on much safer ground here.

"Gottleib's got his wife and kid, so they're set. Tendo has his wife and that lot, so he's out. The Russians are too goddamn scary to even think about separating. The Weis would like it too goddamn much."

He snorted again. It was nothing but the truth. The triplets were, in a word, incorrigible.

"I'm not touching any of the Striker techs."

That was just respect, and Raleigh privately agreed. He wouldn't grab one of Gipsy's techs and lay a smacker on him or her, either.

"So who the fuck is left? I'm not grabbing a stranger, and I don't wanna stand there like a drunk kangaroo in a whole crowd full of people sucking face without--"

The kid cut himself off and flushed to his hairline. Raleigh sighed. They'd just come to the root of the problem. Chuck didn't want to be the only person not kissing someone while the whole rest of the PPDC made merry and rung in the new year.

The poor kid. He really was an awkward teenager deep down.

Inexplicably, Raleigh found himself caving. He apparently wasn't as immune to the little brat's posturing as he'd hoped.

"Look, Chuck...." How to word it without getting decked, though? "Just... if you promise not to punch me, you can stand by me for the countdown, okay?"

Uh-oh. Chuck's eyes narrowed, his jaw gritting, his shoulders stiffening. _Not good. Abort, abort._

He put up his hands and tried to look innocent. "Just a kiss on the cheek, man. I'm not gonna slip you the tongue or anything, and you can look as pissed off as you want."

The fisted hands... unclenched. A bit.

"It saves us both, okay? We can just make it kind of a joke, and it's over."

The kid mulled this over, and the tension gradually receded. It really was an ideal solution to a problem Raleigh hadn't even considered yet. There he'd have been in the middle of all the party and swing, watching while everyone else smiled and traded kisses and reminded him that, other than Mako, he was still alone in the world he'd helped save.

In a way, he was grateful that Chuck was a bit of a control freak with the foresight to not want to be embarrassed in front of a big crowd.

Finally: "Right, then. But keep your hands to yourself, Ray. I'd hate to ring in the new year by breaking both your arms. They say that's what you'll be doing the rest of the year, y'know."

With that, the jerk pivoted and strode away, back and shoulders military straight. All Raleigh could do was shake his head and grin wryly.

_Chuck Hansen, everyone. Don't forget to tip your waitress._

\--

Raleigh shifted uncomfortably, constantly aware that he'd never actually worn a tux. Sure, he'd done interviews in his dress blues, but that wasn't the same at all. He hadn't even rented a tux for prom, though he thought Yancy probably had. He felt like a kid in his father's fancy dress clothes, and all the slicked-back hair and casual grip on a snifter of whiskey in the world didn't change that.

Luckily, he was pretty sure Chuck was even more uncomfortable, what with not being allowed to wear a grey t-shirt or his metal-shinned boots. Herc's edict. It was a black tie affair, and everyone from the marshal to the janitor was dressed to the nines.

Mako, of course, looked like a vision in her glorious, shimmering, silver-blue satin with its gleaming brilliants catching the light with her every move. Not that he'd caught more than a glimpse of her since he'd nodded appreciatively as he walked her in over three hours ago.

"Need another, mate?"

He glanced down at his whiskey and debated. He'd babied the single glass all night, afraid to get drunk and say something stupid -- or react poorly to something stupid said to him -- but... honestly... his nerves screamed for a little sense-dulling. Decided, he tossed off the last swallow and handed Chuck his glass, glad that at least one person in the room surely felt as out-of-place and conspicuous as he did.

True to their odd bargain, Chuck had stuck close to Raleigh's side all night, and they'd had a surprisingly pleasant time, for all that they were both afraid to put a foot wrong and were, thus, on their best behavior. Or maybe that's _why_ they were both being so pleasant. Neither of them wanted to screw up and ruin either Herc's or Mako's night.

Solidarity. It would do.

So when the kid returned with two filled glasses, this time on the rocks, Raleigh grinned and lifted his in a bit of a salute. Fidgeting, Chuck smirked a bit and aped the gesture, and they both took an appreciative sip.

"Dad says everything's going fine."

Raleigh nodded, eyeing the crowd and willing himself not to stick his free hand in his pants pocket and ruin the line of the tux. "Looks like it. Everyone's on the right side of drunk for a good party, anyway."

Chuck snorted. "Considering the amount of liquor the Russians were able to get their hands on, I'm surprised anyone will even make it to midnight."

Grinning, he pointed at the overburdened buffet tables on the other side of the room. "That's what all the food is for: to keep everyone from getting completely loaded."

"That only works if you aren't too nervous to eat, mate."

He raised an eyebrow, then grinned again. "True enough. It'd be a shame to ruin that tie by spilling dip on it."

To his surprise, Chuck blushed and brushed at the tie in question -- a dragon, richly embroidered with red and gold and black silk threads on a background of charcoal silk pattered like scales -- as if he wouldn't mind taking it off and stuffing it in a pocket. It definitely outshone Raleigh's simple black bowtie.

"Oi, yeah. Uh... gift from the Russians, and all. A thank-you for making the choppers stick around long enough to pop the hatch on Cherno. Might not have found them alive, otherwise." That was not a sip. That was a gulp and had to burn all the way down. "Dad has one in blues and greens, yeah?"

His eyebrow rose further. "But he's not wearing his tonight."

Herc had, of course, gone with the traditional bowtie.

But Chuck merely shrugged and quit fiddling with the tie. "When am I ever gonna dress up again, mate?"

For that, he had no response, so he simply chuckled and took another sip. Twelve minutes to midnight, and then he could start making his escape. The tux may or may not look good -- he was absolutely not a judge of his own appeal; Yancy had always been the pretty Becket -- but it was constrictive and stiff and he could not wait to shuck it off and hang it neatly back in its garment bag and send it back to the store. After the big hubbub at midnight, he could find Mako in the crowd, wish her a good night, shake hands with Herc, then start gladhanding his way out the door.

If all went well, he could be chilling in his bunk in pajamas by 12:30.

"Oi, Raleigh?"

His actual name in that Australian accent was still such a rare treat that it immediately got his attention. He looked at Chuck and, oddly enough, realized that the kid cleaned up nice. With all the jaeger grease scrubbed from under his fingernails and that floofy ginger mop tamed a bit with some product, those broad shoulders and slim hips accentuated by the cut of his tux, the kid... didn't look like a kid. Chuck Hansen looked like a full-on grown-up, and Raleigh couldn't help but be... appreciative.

Who knew the asshole who walked like a man was handsome?

So, he listened with a hint of a grin when Chuck fumbled into whatever he was planning to say as the clock -- ironically, Herc had decided to repurpose the war clock for a more joyous use this time around -- ticked away the last minutes of the year of their victory over the kaiju.

"Yeah, just... thanks for not making me face this alone, yeah?"

His hint of a grin blossomed into a full one.

"Just... the more I look around and see everyone paired-off-like, the more I'm... glad I don't have to stand out in the crowd, yeah?"

He didn't know what possessed him, but he couldn't resist the urge. As he'd said before, he wasn't exactly known for his restraint.

So, he reached out with his free hand and gently chucked the not-kid on the arm. "C'mon, Chuck. You'd stand out in any crowd, paired off or not."

He almost wanted to take it back when he saw Chuck's eyes go wide and the blush start up his neck, but a second glance showed it was embarrassment instead of anger that had the brat flushing up. For once, Motormouth Chuck Hansen was speechless.

And all it took was a compliment.

Grinning like a felon, Raleigh casually sipped at his whiskey and deliberately turned his attention to the room as a whole. Sure, Chuck was trying to wrestle the compliment into acceptible terms, but if Raleigh stared too long, the jerk would probably find a way to take offense and undo all the rapport they'd managed tonight. And that... well, that would be a shame.

After a long moment -- at least three of the six minutes left -- Chuck rolled his shoulders and shuffled his feet a bit and cleared his throat. "Thanks, mate."

 _Don't overdo it._ Reining in his grin, he nodded. "Welcome."

They were quiet as the crowd grew more and more excited, waiting for the ultimate moment. When they reached one minute, couples drew close together, and everyone's eyes fixed on the repurposed war clock. Though there wasn't really enough of a crowd to jostle anyone apart, Raleigh and Chuck drew a little closer together, too, until their elbows brushed as one or the other took a sip on their whiskey.

Then, it was the final countdown. The entire crowd, Chuck included, joined in.

"Ten!"

Raleigh caught himself grinning and thinking that, yeah, this was a good idea.

"Nine!"

All the PPDC personnel, celebrating both the victory and the future at the same time.

"Eight!"

And celebrating it together, just like it had ended. No UN people mucking up the works and making phony speeches and trying to act like they had anything to do with the outcome other than making everything more difficult.

"Seven!"

Herc and Mako stood arm-to-arm on a slightly elevated platform, champagne glasses held high.

"Six!"

Huh. Maybe he should've used some of that time to get him and Chuck some champagne. It was tradition, after all, and Chuck was all about the details of the tradition.

"Five!"

Was it too late? It was probably too late. He glanced around and didn't see anyone with a tray of flutes anywhere. Dammit.

"Four!"

Whatever. Too late now. One little kiss on the cheek while Chuck looked uncomfortable and irritated, and Raleigh could be on his way for the night. Too damn many people, too damn much noise.

"Three!"

Maybe he'd get them some champagne after the stupid kiss thing? Would that be weird?

"Two!"

He'd worry about that later. Now, he just had to lean over and give a little peck on the cheek. Once his duty was done, he could be on his way.

"One!"

He leaned over, lips open just enough for a hint of a pucker, and--

"Oi, Chuck!"

He saw it happen as if he were standing outside his own body. Chuck turned to look at where Herc was calling, which put his mouth -- open for a return "Oi!", most likely -- right in line with Raleigh's. The intended kiss on the cheek... misfired.

Because of course it did. All that planning. Down the tubes.

Joyous shouts of "Happy New Year!" and the braying of those stupid paper noisemakers and the pop of dozens of those doofy little confetti bombs blared in the background as slightly parted lips met and clung. Because it was supposed to be a peck on the cheek, Raleigh hadn't closed his eyes. And since he'd been planning to answer his dad, neither had Chuck.

Faces smushed together. Eyes wide open. Blushes racing to see which could cover the entire face first.

And then... Chuck closed his eyes. Tilted his head a little. This... wasn't a misfire.

This kiss was on _purpose_.

Raleigh had a split second to decide whether he should jerk away and make everything really fucking awkward or just go with it and hope he didn't get decked when it was over.

Well, he was pretty well known for being impulsive. He went with it.

Chuck's mouth tasted like whiskey but... sweeter. They'd been drinking the same thing, but it tasted so much better on Chuck's tongue. All the noise and fuss faded away as he savored that flavor far more than he had his own drink.

Oops. Hadn't he promised he wouldn't do tongue? Then again, Chuck didn't seem to be protesting. In fact, with a groaning sort of sigh, Chuck shifted to actually press against him, one big hand going to Raleigh's waist and getting a good hold. The handsome jerk had shaved, and his jaw felt smooth and firm as Raleigh traced his thumb along it, his fingers stretching back to cup Chuck's warm neck.

He had to give it to his old nemesis: Chuck was a damn good kisser. Perfect lips for it, just enough tongue, not too wet or too dry, and the occasional repeat of that addictive little vocal sigh. Raleigh could do this for hours.

But as a louder-than-usual cheer went up around them, they both pulled just enough away to blink at each other, not sure what to do now. For a moment, Raleigh was afraid that cheer had been about them, and they'd both start protesting that there was nothing to it and end up in a fist fight, just to prove it.

Thankfully, a quick glance around showed that everyone was looking behind him, toward the makeshift stage, and he slumped with relief that Herc and Mako, whatever they were doing, had the entire crowd's attention. He doubted anyone had noticed anything amiss.

So, when he returned his attention to Chuck, he was surprised to realize that big, warm hand hadn't moved from his waist any more than his own hand had moved away from Chuck's warm throat. And that Chuck was still looking at him like he wasn't sure what to do.

Well, he couldn't have that, could he?

Grinning a little, he leaned back in, tasting whiskey and the surprising sweetness that was Chuck. That big hand slid further around to his back, pulling him close. His own hand slid further back, threading into soft ginger hair. This wasn't how this evening was supposed to go at all, but hell. He'd always been quick on his feet.

Whispering and hoping like hell he wasn't about to ruin the whole thing, he put it all out on the table. "My room or yours?"

Chuck panted a bit against his lips. "Yours. Max won't stay out of the bed if I'm in it."

He snickered and stole another little kiss. "I'm starting to think he has the right idea."

The big jerk's eyes widened, his face reddening further. It was fucking adorable, and Raleigh couldn't help but laugh. He didn't care if it drew notice at this point. Grinning, he grabbed Chuck's hand and headed for the door. No time for goodbyes or gladhanding. He had much better things to do with his evening now.

Feeling like a horny teenager, he had to stop now and again and shove Chuck against a wall for another kiss -- or be shoved against a wall in return, which he absolutely did not mind -- but they finally made it to his bunk and started the long and arduous process of stripping out of all their finery. Jackets were carelessly tossed aside, and then Chuck worked on Raleigh's bowtie while Raleigh carefully (and with many kisses to the slowly exposed throat) removed Chuck's dragon-embroidered tie. One shirt hit the floor, followed quickly by the other.

God, Chuck was broad. Toned. Just... gorgeous to the touch. Heavy muscle shifted at each stroke of his hands, and Raleigh tried not to wonder how long it had been since someone had given this body the attention it deserved. If anyone ever had. Chuck was clearly no virgin, but that didn't mean he'd been fully appreciated.

So, while it was probably a good idea to keep things moving along so neither of them questioned it too much, Raleigh deliberately slowed everything down. He didn't truly care who topped -- he could go either way, himself, though he knew some guys had a preference -- but he did care that Chuck never once felt like Raleigh was just scratching an itch. It was one thing to agree to kiss him on the cheek so he didn't feel embarrassed to be the lone single in a room full of doubles. It was quite another to act like them falling into bed together was just "one of those things".

Raleigh didn't take just anyone to bed. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been more than six years since the last time.

Okay, so maybe _he_ didn't want to be the itch to be scratched. Either way.

Thankfully, Chuck didn't resist Raleigh's attempts to slow them down. He settled into the new pace with the same ease with which he'd switched from shock to easy passion earlier. Their slacks were smoothed away instead of yanked off, their weird trouser socks tossed casually aside, their undershirts stroked up and off and gone. Slowly, without fuss or hassle, they were naked and kissing lazily and, while the urgency was still very much there, the need to hurry so as no to ruin anything was long gone.

And, as Chuck laid him down on the bunk and eased his gorgeous bulk down to blanket him with muscled, silken warmth, Raleigh couldn't help but appreciate the fact that Chuck's big, hard hands were capable of infinite gentleness. They stroked over his skin, leaving him both tingling and ever warmer with each pass. He hadn't expected patient caresses from Chuck Hansen.

Then again, he hadn't expected to be in bed with Chuck Hansen at all. It was a pleasant surprise all around.

Grinning into the constant slow kisses, he stroked his hands over the shifting muscle of Chuck's broad back, pulling that big body close. Chuck felt amazing against him, weighing him down, and he had absolutely no problem if Chuck wanted to be on hop. The cock swelling against his hip was thick and perfect, and, in Raleigh's opinion, he couldn't get his hands on it soon enough.

God, those groaning sighs were almost more addictive than the thrill of the Big Drop, and Chuck's full-body shudder as Raleigh gave him a good, hard stroke was even better. So sensitive. So responsive. The idea of this gorgeous kid just _fucking_ , just _being used_ was almost too much for him.

Never with him. Again resolved, he began to murmur sweet nothings into Chuck's ear, one hand stroking that glorious cock with infinite care while the other slid down to grip what he discovered was the finest ass he'd ever laid hands on. Chuck shivered, his breath coming quick and short, suddenly almost hesitant as Raleigh lavished praise on him in a husky, murmuring whisper.

"Raleigh... what...?"

Moving so his lips brushed the impossibly sensitive skin just behind Chuck's ear with every word, Raleigh sighed his praises, meaning every one. "So goddamn gorgeous, Chuck... told you before, you'd stand out in a crowd no matter what... feel so fucking good in my hands...."

"Jesus, mate...."

Arching against all that heat, he groaned softly. "Wanna taste you, Chuck... wanna get my mouth on you, all over you... can't get enough of your taste...."

Chuck gave in with a low, desperate vocalization, rolling them on the narrow mattress and stealing Raleigh's mouth for a deep kiss before he could do anything else. Raleigh didn't argue, though. That oh-so-smart mouth tasted too damn good to resist for long.

Until he replaced it with the long tendon in Chuck's neck. And the polished-marble swell of that epic chest. And the bulges and ripples of ripped abs. And, oh, God, the perfect vee of muscle that led to where he most wanted to taste -- that thick, gorgeous cock. Delaying his own gratification, he drew his nose along the crease between groin and heavy-muscled thigh, breathing in a heady musk that was simply, perfectly Chuck.

"God, Chuck you're so fucking perfect." Sighing, he traced his tongue up the same path his nose had taken, Chuck's hips arching until Raleigh held them down. "How were you right in front of me this whole time... and I never even knew...."

Another of those addictive vocal sighs, and Raleigh gave in and licked right up the underside of that beautiful cock. Groaning himself, he took the head into his mouth and gave a lingering suck, his tongue caressing just under the head, and Chuck came completely undone.

"Raleigh... fuck... oh, fuck, do that again... _Raleigh_...."

Oh, the things he'd do to hear Chuck Hansen beg like that, voice wrecked and body flushed with need. He obliged to the best of his ability, dredging up every rusty memory of how to use his mouth and throat to worship someone worthy of the effort. Chuck was too thick to deep throat after such a long time out of practice, but Raleigh did his noble best, always returning to the head to lavish it with kisses and flicks of his tongue before taking in as much as he could all over again.

And every time Chuck seemed on the edge, Raleigh pulled back and murmured soothing nothings against Chuck's hip, his inner thigh, the base of that perfect cock. He definitely didn't want Chuck to come yet.

He was saving that for himself.

"Raleigh... Raleigh, please... I need... to...."

Incoherent with need, Chuck pleaded for mercy, his voice hoarse and ragged, and Raleigh wanted nothing more than to oblige. Finally becoming desperate, he stroked himself up that gorgeous, writhing body and kissed Chuck hard and deep, tugging at a broad shoulder to get that bigger body to roll over his own. Chuck obliged, reaching between them to give Raleigh a tight stroke that curled his toes before reaching further still and groaning.

"Fuck, Raleigh, where's the--"

Lurching up and twisting to dig around in the top drawer of the desk, Raleigh tried to rein himself in enough to remember if this was even the right drawer. He hadn't exactly had much use for lube and condoms since he got here, after all.

Well, for lube, which he finally found, but not for--

"Fuck, I don't think I have any condoms. Are... are you...?"

God, talk about a mood-killer. Blushing now with both of them throbbing and aching for the next thing, Raleigh shot Chuck a look so full of "please have the right answer to this question" that it would have been hilarious in other circumstances.

Thankfully, Chuck didn't balk. "I'm clean, swear to God. You?"

Even more desperate now with the confirmation, Raleigh laid back and shoved the lube at Chuck. "I was clean when I left, and I haven't been with anyone since."

Of all the things he could have said, _that_ one stuck. Chuck, whose movements had been almost frantic now that he was back on top and in control, froze and stared, wide-eyed. It took Raleigh a moment to realize things weren't moving along, and when he did, he wished more than anything that he'd just said, "Yup, clean as a whistle" and been done with it.

Because Chuck's wide eyes were filled with such... just... _too much_ , and that was the last thing Raleigh wanted. He just needed Chuck inside him, and right now.

Sighing, he reached up and trailed his fingers down that dropped jaw. "Chuck, it's been six years since I got laid. You really gonna make me wait six more?"

Huffing a bit -- with borderline amusement, Raleigh guessed -- Chuck lay back down over him. "If it's been so long, mate... why'd you slow us down earlier?"

He blinked, tilted his head, and decided to be completely honest. "Because you deserve to be appreciated, Chuck."

To his delight, the big jerk blushed to the tips of his ears. "Oi, ya sap. Why're you being so sweet, then?"

One eyebrow rose. "Because I really, really wanna get laid." His eyebrow inched higher. "Sometime this year, please."

He'd hoped for a laugh. Instead, he got a piercing, shrewd look from stormy grey eyes. He'd never truly appreciated that changeable color before. He couldn't help but squirm under the intensity of that look now.

"But not fucked."

What? Oh. Laid, not fucked. Right. He'd wanted that for Chuck, but... maybe they could be that for each other.

Letting his fingers trail from that strong jaw down to the broad chest, Raleigh shrugged. "Never been much for just fucking."

Nodding, those piercing eyes watched him a moment longer before Chuck's whole face softened, and he leaned down for another kiss that Raleigh returned with grateful interest. He hadn't ruined everything. Chuck was still on board.

And when a slick finger traced down between his legs, he realized Chuck was on board completely. That careful touch, gently circling before applying any pressure, was not about fucking, about just rutting on each other until they both got off. Chuck was willing to take his time, much as Raleigh had.

Dammit. Because he really, really needed that burn and stretch, and he needed it, like, ten minutes ago.

It was his turn to babble incoherently. "Chuck... please... just... need _more_...."

But the gorgeous bastard nibbled at his neck and continued to just barely breach him, and while Chuck had big fingers to go along with his big hands, it wasn't enough. Whimpering, Raleigh arched against all that glorious bulk. He really shouldn't have admitted how long it had been. He should've known Chuck would be that much more careful because of it.

Though he had to admit, a single finger was a bit of a stretch, especially when Chuck finally obliged and sank it all the way in.

His breath sighed out of him. "Oh, fuck yes, Chuck, more...."

The big jerk chuckled against his throat -- Raleigh's whole body shivered at the sensation -- and made no move to speed up. "I'm not in a hurry, mate. Kinda like making you beg, yeah?"

And Raleigh was perfectly willing to do so. "Please, Chuck, need it, need you, _please_...."

Gently sucking what would surely be a spectacular hickey into the skin just behind Raleigh's ear, Chuck slowly, patiently worked in another finger, careful to only stroke over his prostate once in a while and focusing on stretching as painlessly as possible. Raleigh writhed and moaned and begged, but he really didn't want the brilliant torture to stop. It felt so damn good, and it had been so long, and his last time had been more of a quickie -- as close to fucking as he'd ever allowed himself, and only because he was supposed to be lights-out already because a kaiju was predicted any hour -- and Chuck was unexpectedly attentive to his every groan and sigh, and it was too much.

It was fucking _perfect_.

"Chuck...." His voice was easily as wrecked as Chuck's had been. "Chuck, please... it's enough... need you... God, please, want you so bad...."

Silken lips ghosted against his ear on a soft murmur. "Not yet, love. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Another slick finger, and yeah, it burned, but it burned so fucking good. Arching and crying out, Raleigh drew his knees up further, then gave up and wrapped one leg around Chuck's waist, offering himself up completely.

"Chuck... Chuck, _please_...."

Shuddering, Chuck finally, _finally_ shifted to slick himself, groaning at the sensation. Raleigh moaned wordlessly and tried to pull that big body close again, but somehow, Chuck kept control and just barely pressed inside.

It hurt. Chuck was proportionate in every possible way, and the stretch was almost strictly painful, and Raleigh did not care. Throwing his head back, he arched into the stalled thrust, knowing the stretch wouldn't be as acute once the head was fully inside. Chuck made another of those groaning sighs as he slid in further, just past the head, that big body flexing as he held back all that jaeger-piloting strength.

"Fuck... fuck... fuck...."

Raleigh's vocabulary seemed to be stuck, but he couldn't help it. It felt amazing even as it hurt, and yeah, maybe he should've let Chuck take his time, but he needed this. God, he'd missed this.

"Fuck... _please_...."

Shuddering, Chuck pressed in further, rolling his hips gently, his breath hot and moist on Raleigh's throat. Further, and they both moaned softly. Further, and Raleigh felt split in two, and there was still so much more to go. Further, and Chuck started to _talk_.

"Jesus, Raleigh, feels so fucking good, love, can't even stand how you feel around me, Jesus, what the fuck were we waiting for all this fucking time--"

Raleigh cried out at one last, careful thrust that seemed to go all the way up his spine but settled Chuck completely inside him. Hot and heavy, that glorious cock throbbed even as Raleigh couldn't help but clench around it, knowing he needed to relax but completely unable to do so. God only knew what he'd do when Chuck actually began to thrust.

The thought made him whimper and wrap his arms tight around those broad shoulders.

"--so fucking good, Raleigh, so goddamn tight I can't even breathe or I'll come and it'll all be over, and I don't want to ever stop fucking you, love, love the way you feel inside, fucking _love_ it--"

"Chuck, please, need you--"

"--gonna fucking _wreck_ you, love, turn you inside out, make you forget everyone else you ever wanted--"

Of course Chuck would be chatty during sex. But Raleigh couldn't help but soak up the praise, feeling warmer and more wanted for it. And when Chuck _did_ start to move, dragging that beautiful cock almost all the way out only to roll his hips so his thrusts stroked over Raleigh's prostate almost constantly, Raleigh didn't feel a single lick of shame as he totally lost the ability to speak and could only moan and sigh and cry out at particularly brilliant thrusts.

Chuck Hansen was a perfectionist. Raleigh should have known that applied even to sex. _Especially_ to sex.

Soon enough, he found himself with one knee hooked over one of Chuck's broad shoulders, the other spread wide and held down to the mattress, Chuck gripping the metal headboard with his free hand, his knees braced wide apart, thrusting so hard and fast that Raleigh could barely distinguish one from the next. The constant litany of how good it felt and how Chuck wanted to ruin him, just fucking _ruin_ him for anyone else became breathless but never stopped.

"--so fucking gorgeous, love, feel so goddamn good, so goddamn _close_ \--"

And he _was_ close. Raleigh felt it in every brutally perfect thrust. Honestly, he wasn't sure how one or both of them hadn't come yet. The way he felt right now, he wasn't sure his head wouldn't blow off when he finally went.

"Raleigh, fuck... Raleigh, c'mon, love... come with me...."

As if on command, whatever had been holding Raleigh back let go, and the whole world went white as orgasm crashed over him. He knew Chuck was still whispering into the crook of his neck as he, too, let go, and the feeling of that hot release inside him threw him even further off the edge of the world.

It wasn't like falling into another dimension at all. That had been all about terror and the wrongness about everything in that world. This... oh, this was fighting the hurricane. This was free-falling over a cliff into the welcoming waters below. This was the dreams of flying he'd had back when he was young and innocent and carefree.

He clung to Chuck with all his strength, holding that big, gorgeous body against his own for as long as he could. Every single nerve ending was over-sensitized to the point where even Chuck's breath on his neck felt like a physical caress and Chuck's heartbeat pounding away against his own felt like thunder from an electrical storm.

And Chuck still whispered nothings, his voice wrecked and exhausted but no less sweet for all that.

"So goddamn good, Raleigh. Jesus, what were we waiting for?"

Completely spent, he could only chuckle deep in his chest. Why indeed? Other than the fact that neither of them had been remotely interested in any such thing before tonight, as far as he knew.

Moaning softly, he twitched his leg, and Chuck obligingly let it slip down his arm, muttering something of an apology for forgetting about it. Raleigh shushed him even as he settled both feet on the mattress and shifted to keep his knees as tight around Chuck's waist as possible. He didn't want to let go just yet.

And he didn't talk. He was afraid that when they started talking, the whole thing would be over, and they'd go back to being comrades and maybe friends, but nothing more. Honestly, that was probably best. They had to work together, after all, and someone as volatile as Chuck paired with someone as impulsive and relatively restraint-free as Raleigh was probably as smart as mixing acids and bases.

But... Raleigh didn't want to go back. He didn't even know why. Sure, Chuck was a spectacular lay, but--

"Y'know, mate... supposedly, what you do on New Year's Day is what you'll be doing the whole rest of the year."

A grin twitched his mouth.

_Oh, Chuck._

"I'm just sayin, there are worse ways to spend a year than lyin' about in bed, figuring out every possible way to make you shout my name, yeah?"

Unless he missed his guess, that was Chuck Awkward Hansen's oh-so-classy way of saying he didn't want just a one-and-done, either. Raleigh could definitely work with that.

So, relaxing his grip now that he knew he didn't actually have to let go, he turned his head and murmured against Chuck's ear, pleased at the shiver it caused.

"Happy New Year, Chuck."

The shiver was joined by an interested twitch of the perfect cock inside him, and Raleigh grinned. Oh, yes.

Happy New Year to them both.

**THE END**


End file.
